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A Soldier in tJte Army of ihe Potojriuc ; and his 
long Confinement at Audersonvllle Prison, Georgia, ^ 
Also, the Starvation and Death of his three Brothers. 

SOLD BY 'PHE AUTHOR FOR THE BENEFIT OF HIMSELF AND FAMILY. 



ITIIO^S 



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MINNEAPOLIS: 

HERALD PUBLISHING HOUSE. 
1872. 





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KxTKHKii A< ('oru)ix(; to Act of CoiNgrkss in the Yeai: 1871. isv 

GEOHGE W. MURJIAY, 

In thi: TlenK's Offk'e of the District Coi'rt of the TxiTEn St \te-^ 

F(.>H THE Northern District of ^Iinnesota. 



M I N N E A P L I S : 
^ir HUSH Kb BY M WLKV A DAD A, 
18 7 2. 



e6ip'<^*^ 



P R E r A C E 



RrOADER ; 111 writing this little book, I do not intend to bring 
before you a work of style or language, nor a history of the war. 
T intend simply to present to you a short narrative of my life as a 
soldier in the Army of the Potomac, and while a prisoner at Ander- 
sonville. Having lost the use of both my i-ight ai-m and leg, 
which excludes all possibility of doing any work to assist in sup- 
porting a wife and three children, I have, therefore, taken this 
method of raising means for their support. It is also right that 
you should know of the sutferings of those who fought for your 
country. Little do yon know, unless you Irivo oxperie-iced it as T 
have. 

'J'he horrors of Andersonville cannot be exaggerated. We may 
look back among the dark ages, and even there you will not liiid a 
parallel. With them, we could say that ignoiance and supersti- 
tion was the cause of their brutality, and that they did not think 
that it was wrong, because their religion often demanded it of 
them. But what excuse can be offered for such conduct in the 
present age, where ignorance is only the exception, and not the 
general rule among us I There is none that can be offered. It 
was pure viciousness that had 1)een engendered by the evil influ- 
ences of Slavery. 

With these few remarks, I throw myself upon the generosity of 
the public, and crave its aid and assistance in supporting my 
little family. 

Yours Respectfully, 

• G. W. MURRAY. 



II I S T R Y . 

My father was, by occMipation, a master mechanic, and lesided 
in the State of New York, where he reared a family of six child- 
ren — four hoys and two girls — of whom I am the youngest. 
When I was but two years of age, my father removed to Spring- 
lield, Mass., and took charge of a branch of the shops, which are 
known as the "North-Western Shops," and where, under his di- 
rection, i learned the trade of Engineer and Machinist. At the age 
of thirteen our i'amily was visited by a great misfortune, viz. : the 
death of ray two sisters, which so preyed on the minds of my pa- 
rents that the}' soon followed. My mother was the first to leave 
us, and when I was but twenty years of age, my father also died. 
x\s is usually the case after such an event, our family w^as broken 
up, and my brothers and myself scattered over the world to seek 
a livelihood. I went to Boston and took charge of the Norway 
Ir(5n Works, at which place I remained about eighteen months. 
My mind became unsettled, how^ever, and my fancy led me to ram- 
bling, as is the case with most young men. I must here admit that 
I was very inisteady, as far as staying in one place long at a time. 
I was fond of adventure, and very desirous of seeing the world, 
and becoming acquainted with its customs. I have in my ram- 
blings visite 1 most all the Western States, and worked in most all 
the principal cities of the far W^est. But, after a very severe at- 
tack of the typhoid fevei-, 1 was led to think seriously of providing 
for myself a home. Acting upon these convictions, I returned to 
Boston, where I married and provided myself with a. comfortable 
home; and at the outbreak of the great Rebelli on was the father ol 
three children. 

At this time our country was greatly excited; the two great fac- 
tions, North and South, were preparing for a great contest, and 
only awaited the signal which was to precipitate us in a bloody 
struggle. At length the first gun was fired at Sumpter, and the 
call went forth for men to defend and uphold the honor of our coun- 
try and its flag. As I stated before, being fond of adventure, it 
was not to be wondered at that I eagerly siezed upon this oppor- 
tunity of gratifying my desire, as well as for the protection of my 



2 

coiuitiy and home. Myselt", in coiapaiiy with three elder brothers, 
put down our names^ to assist in filling up the Eleventh Regiment 
of Massachusetts Volunteers, under the command of Col. Clark, 
who, after the first battle of I3ull Ilun, resigned on account of ill 
health, and his place was filled by Lieut. Col. Jlston, who had ren- 
dered assistance to our country in the war with Mexico. 

The regiment was soon filled up, and we Avere ready to take oVn- 
departure for the Sunny South; and bidding adieu to my wife and 
family, I went in defense of our National Liberty. No one can 
tell, except those who were with me and experienced the same 
trials that I passed through, the pain of separation. Lnagine, if 
you can, how 1 must have felt, when obliged to leave those I loved, 
to meet with privation, danger, and probably death, in a strange 
land. But should I remain inactive, and see those liberties Avhich 
T had so long enjoyed ruthlessly plucked from me ? I had an uncle 
who lost his life while struggling to establish this good and glori- 
ous Government ; also a father who participated largely in the 
bloody contests of 1812. 

Under those circumstances, I deemed it my duty to go and fol- 
low the example of my predecessors. So, bidding adieu to home 
and friends, we took our departure from Boston, via. Providence, 
II. I. and New York, for the seat of war, passing enroute Philadel- 
phia and l;altimore, and receiving marks of enthusiasm and kind 
greeting throughout our journey, with the exception of the city of 
Baltimore, wdiich was not altogether as loyal as it might have 
been, judging from the reception given the Sixth Massachusetts 
Regiment, who proceeded us and wore mobbed in the streets of 
that city on the 19th day of April, 1861. 

Arriving at Washington on or about the hr>t of June, iS'il, we 
enc uuped at Camp Green. Camp Green derived its name from the 
beauty of its situation, and was, at this time, considered the most 
pleasani locality for a camp around the suburbs of Washington. It 
vv I ^ laid oit in the most systematic and military manner, and its 
8ti et^ and surroundings were kept in the most perfect order ,both 
11. 1.1 i\ to cleanliness and comfort. Here our duties w^ere con- 



3 

fined principally to cnmp and garrison duty — drilling, guard-mount- 
ing, parade, as well as the iieccessary fatigue work incidental to a 
soldier's life ; all of which served to keep us well employed, and 
to fit us for the moi'e arduous duties soon to follow. We remained 
at Camp Green inilil near the time of the first battle of Bull Run, 
when we received orders to march forward under the command of 
General McDowell. 

I will not attem])t to give a description of those lattles, as they 
are so familiar to all, and also because they have been commented 
upon by abler writers than myself. But only wish to give you a 
faint idea of army life. I will state to my readers, that I w^as not 
accustomed to the life of a soldier or hardships connected there- 
with. As I have already stated, we received orders to march, and 
on the 19th of July, 1861, we packed our knapsacks and camp 
utensils, and made our way toward the memorable battle-field of 
Bull Run. On the night of the SOth, we halted about two miles 
from Stone Bridge, and after taking some refreshments, we began 
to make prepations for the coming day. After all things were put 
in order, the officers and privates collected themselves together in 
groups, and were soon busily engaged in conversation, which was 
kept up the remainder of theevening. Some talked of their homes 
they had left, others of their wives and children. My three broth- 
ers and myself separated ourselves from the rest of the company, 
and were talking of home and loved ones left behind. Our thoughts 
were solemn indeed. What would be the morrow's result? In all 
probability some of us who were conversing together would never 
behold our friends and homes again. While pondering over the 
probable results of the future, we were startled suddenly by the 
sharp crack of a musket on our front, which Avas immediately fol- 
lowed by several shots all along the picket line, which created not 
a little excitement in the camp, and caused many to think that the 
coming struggle was indeed near at hand. Who of us would sur- 
vive the morrow ? Promises were made by comrades, that who- 
ever should fall, the survivor should bear the sorrowful tidings to 
his friends and loved ones at home. A few remarks were passed 



4 

between ray brothers and myself concerning the coming struggle": 
but they, unlike many, did not think of home or family, for all that 
was left of the family were with ns. But with me it was differentj. 
I had a home, and those in it that I loved. But all that I could d(> 
was to pray that 1 might, at some period not far distant, see them 
once more. 

We made our beds and were soon in the land of diX'arns. Day 
dawned, and it was one of the hottest days that I ever experienced 
while in the army. About eight o'clock the long roll was sound- 
ed and the command was for every man to fall into his place. We 
soon formed in a line and marclied forward to meet the foe. This 
was our first battle, and therefore the one which was tj test oui- 
courage, and as we marched forward, the sharp crack of the mus- 
ket foretold us that our dreadful work was about to commence. We 
soon reached Stone Bridge, and then we beheld the dark clouds oi 
smoke. With a loud cheer, which issued from the lips of every 
man, we started on a double quick until we reached the nuiin lim 
of battle, and joined Hookei's division, and supported the light 
center. No charges were made by our men until about twelve 
o'clock, when we were ordered to charge. The rebels fell back 
for half a mile. Several charges weie made to our left b_\ 
the Sixty-Ninth New York Regiment and the Elsworth Zouaves. 
but the results were of no great importance. The rebel cavali } 
made several charges on our left, but were repulsed with great los> 
of life. About two o'clock the rebels were reinforced by about 
thirty thousand men, who took the j)lace oftheir nearly exhausted 
comrades. The day was very hot, and we cjuld get neither water 
nor food, and many of our men fell from exhaustion ; still we held 
our position at every point. We were cheered by our officers and told 
to hold our position until reinforcements came to our asssistance : 
that Gen. Halleck was coming to reinforce us. But time rolled on 
and reinforcements did not reach us, and the forces were fast be- 
coming exhausted, and it was plainly to be seen that victory foi 
us was hopeless, unless we were reinforced soon. Our wearied 
line must give way to the impetuous charges of these fresh troop^ 



5 

That were hurled ;igainst us. In vain the officers trierl to rally 
vMir drooping spirits and flaggino- limbs. At about half past five 
o'clock our lines gave way, and. a general panic was the result. 
Men threw down their arms, and left the field over which they had 
so valliantly fought for nine long, weary hours. 

All was excitement ; artillery and cavalry dashed over infantry, 
and our destruction seemed inevitable. In the meantime the Six- 
ty-Ninth IiCgiment was outiianked and cut off from retreat. "Sur- 
renderor die !"cried the foe, when up rode their giant commander 
who flourished his sword and exclaimed, "Die before you yield !" 

Hand to hand the battle raged, when, by force of superior num- 
bers they were compelled to yield, leaving their Colonel in the 
hands of the enemy, a prisoner. We became scattered in all di- 
rections. We lost in this battle many brave men, among whom 
might be mentioned Col. Cameron, son of the then Secretary of 
War. Among the prisoners taken by the rebels were Congressman 
Kly and wife, of New York, and many others, who, thinking it a 
iiiatter of impossibility for our army to be defeated, had followed 
,:'>)r the purpo-^e of viewing a battle. We learn, however, that on 
their return from Richmond, they had formed the opinion that the 
South was not to bo trifled with. Whether the rebels were afraid 
that we would be reinforced, or that they were as badly ofl"as we, I 
Hm not prepared to say. At any rate, they did not follow up the 
advantage they h;id gained by our retreat, for if they had, I think 
Washington would have fallen into their hands with but little ex- 
ertion. No etforts vseie made to re-organize the demoralized 
troops until the next morning, when they were occupied three days 
})efore the re-organization was accomplished. 

All was excitement and confusion in Washington. The three 
months men whose time had expired, were being sent to their re- 
spective homes, and in their place new troops were constantly ar- 
riving, and it was seemingly a laborious task to place the army 
Again on the offensive. 

Nothing of importance was done, on account of bad weather, 
until after General McClellan took command* 



Oct. 2181, was fong-ht the battle of Edward's Ferr\ , which re- 
sulted in no great loss to this side. Shortly after this, Lieut. Gen. 
Scott resigned and Gen. McClellan was appointed in his stead, on 
the 1st of November, 1861, after which, nothing, with, the excep- 
tion of a few skirmishes, took place until Jan. 7th of 1862, when 
the battle of Blue Gap occuned and on the 19th the battle of ]\Iili 
Springs, which were followed by another engagement with the 
rebels at Winchester, on the 24th of March, 1862. Upon Gen. 
McClellan assuming command of the army, he went to 
work to thororghly re-organize it, in every particular. Generals 
of known merit and skill, were chosen to comm ind the several 
Corps-de-Armie, into which the army was divided ; the men were 
thoroughly drilled in every detail of array discipline, and what 
might have been formerly called a disorganized body of men. ov. 
the opening of spring, presented the a]){»ea)"ance of a 
magnificent, and well trained army of Velerans. 

Everything being in readiness for a move, early in May, the Ar- 
my of the Potomac left its old position around Washington, and 
under the command of its idolized Leader, wa< embarked on 
transports and conveyed to Fortress Monroe. Disembarking at 
this point, they were pushed forward rapidly to Yorktown, Va., 
where Gen. McGruder was found to be in full force, and strongly 
entrenched. Gen. McClellan finding the rebel position to be too 
formidable for attack, at once commenced iiieparations for a siege. 
Earth-works were speedily thrown up, and in a short time the en- 
emy's position was surrounded with a cordon of works, which 
might well be deemed impregnable. McGruder finding his posi- 
tion untenantable, evacuated Yorktown, and was followed up l)y 
tlie army of the Potomac, who attacked him at Williamsburg, and 
Gaines Hill, with success, and steadily drove his army back into 
Richmond. The army of the Potomac now took up its position on 
the banks of the Chickahominy River, its right wing extending to 
White House, where Gen. McClellan expected to form a junction 
with Gen. McDonald's Command, operating from Fredericksburg, 
and thus form a force sufficient for the capture of Richmond. 



Contr-ary, hoAvevev, to McClcllan's expectation, "McDo^^•e]l v. as or- 
dered to lemain at Freclericksbiirg and to be prepared to protect 
Washin>j:ton in case of a rebel attack, the authorities becorainp- 
alarmed for the safety of the CapitoL This left onr right wing un- 
protected, and the rebeh? immediately iook advantage of our posi- 
tion. 

June 25th, 1862, was commenced the seven-days battle before 
Richmond. These battles were fought in the midst of heavy tim- 
ber, and at times it \vas impossible to see the position of the ene- 
my. The lighting on botl,i sides was very fierce, and every inch of 
ground was stubbornly contested. Many of the rebels were killed 
by the falling limbs which were cut oft" by^ our shells. July Ist, 
was fought the battle of Malvern Hills, which was the close of the 
seveji days conflict. Thus after six nights sp,ent in retreating, and 
seven days hard f]ghtii]g, the army of the Potomac was again in a 
safe position at Harrison's Landing, and although the men had en- 
dured unknown sufferings during all this time, the severity of the 
niarche-^, oftentimes through swam[)s and dcnfe VxCf d^■. villi 1 1;1 
little food to siiatain them, they were still unsubdued andconfidcijt 
of victory, and I'eady at any time to follow under the leadership of 
their beloved Commander. 

The battle at Malvern Hills was a severe blow to the rebel 
hordes : the terriffic fire of Fitz John Porter's Artillery, had mov/- 
ed them down in great numljers, and they v;ere no doubt glad of 
an opportnnity to escape from further disaster. 

On the 11th, Gen. Ealleck was appointed Commander-in-Chief. 
About this time the President iL^sued a call for three hundred 
thousand men in order to fill our broken ranks. After this, ^ye 
marched on and fought that Moody and bitter battle of the second 
Bull Run, on the 3Cth of August. 

The next battle that I was engaged in Avas that of Antietam, 
fought Sept. 10th, ISGi, This was one of the most stubbornly 
contested battles of the West, and the losses in killed and wound- 
ed on both sides, frightful. It was here Ihat Gen. Lurnsidcj com- 
manding the Ninth Army Corps, first displayed ]ui< military skill 



to advanta"*e. PIIs stormiivj; the bridire over Antletam Creek, was 
one of the most fearful contests of the day; his men, subject to a 
raking fire of grape and canister, advanced and charged the 
bridge, and, although repulsed at tirst, finally succeeded in driv- 
ing the enemy from their position and in capturing a nnmuer of 
prisoners: this in fact insw'ed victory for our arms- on this mem- 
orable day. 

After the battle of Antietam our array, nearly worn out from 
fatigue, decimated in numbei's, and also in the need of supplies, 
were granted a few days respite, although a watchful eye was kept 
on tlic luovements of the enemy, who still remained in our front. 

The enemv, however, finding that our array was being reinforc- 
* ' . ... ' * . 

ed, and expecting an oifensive movement at any time, hastily 

abandoned their position, and took np their march southward- 
Oui- ai'uiy as soon as possible, stai'ted in pursuit, and had nearly 
overtaken the retreating foe, when on the 7th of ]^\ovember Gen- 
McClellan was relieved from the command of the Army of the Po- 
tomac, and Gen. iJurnside appointed his successor. 

This was a great blow to both the oilicers and men of his army, 
and but few dry eyes were to be seen among the tried veteran?- 
wheii the news of the removal of their beloved Commander reach- 
ed them. No General who succeeded McClellan gained the samt 
confidence fVora the men that he did, and when his farewell ad- 
dress was delivered to them, they felt as if they had lost a friend 
indeed, but as soldiers who knew their duty, they nrarmured not, 
but were ready to follow their uew Connnander through scvcrt 
and bloody confiicts. 

Upon Gen. Burnside assuming the command, he continued the 
advance ; the enemy, however, made a successful retreat, and took 
up theii' position at Fredericksuiu-g, Va..whicl) they at once foi'tified. 
Our position extended along the Rappahannoclc river, and direct- 
ly opposite. Although the season for active operations was far 
advanced, our work was not done. Contrary to the judgment of 
our Generals, another bloody Ijattle was to be fought, and Avith 
like prospects of successs. Orders weie received from the War 



9 

DepavTiiient foi- an advance, ami notliin;;- remained for us but to 
obey. Accordina;ly, on the 13tli of December our arm}' marched 
to tht' river, and all hough subject to a murderous fire from the 
enemy's riflemen on the opposite side, we succeeded in throwing 
our pontoon across the stream. The Seventh Michigan again led 
the advance, and by them the battle was opened ; the enemy's ri- 
flemen reti-eating behind their works on Mary's Height. 

After a greater portion of the infantry succeeded in crossing 
over, the Corps commanded by Gen. Hooker, charged upon the 
works three times, and were as often repulsed with great loss. A 
great many of our heavy guns, and field artillery, owing to the 
miserable condition of the roads, were left on the other side stuck 
in the mud, so that we were»forced to depend almost entirely on 
our infantry, and receiving no other support, w^e were obliged to 
recross the river, which we succeeded in doing without furthei- 
loss,, and in good order. Thus ended the campaign of 1862. AYo 
then went into winter quarters, and all remained quiet with the 
exception ff now and then some little firing between the op[;osing 
pickets. Tlie men had now a comparatively easy time ; but little 
being recpiired of them, except the necessary gr.aid and outpost 
duty ; a repose which, after so many hardshi])s, was very much 
needed before renewing the trials of another campaign. 

Gen. Burnside, upon being relieved frouj his command was suc- 
ceeded Ijy Gen. Hooker Vvho, on the 2Stli of Ajiril, crossed the Rap- 
pahannock in three colums and prepared for a general engage- 
meu.t. May 2d, 3d, and 4th, the battle of Chancellersville; was 
fought between the araiies of Geiis. ilool^er and Lee, which result- 
ed in the defeat of oui^ army, with great loss. The rebels also sus- 
tained a great loss in this I'litile ; one of their ablest Generals, 
Stonewall Jackson, was mortally wounded, and died soon after. 
June 13th, Gen. Millroy was surrounded by Lee at Winchester, 
Va., and on the 28th, June, Gen. Hooker was superceded by Gen. 
Meade. The rebels becoming elated at their successes concluded 
to turn the theatre of war from Yirginia to the loyal states; Mary- 
land and Pennsylvania were invaded, Frederick City occupied 



10 

iiud vviiat suppiles iliey needed for their army levied fram the I'n- 
hauitants of that city. Our army followed, and on the 1st of July? 
the contending armies again met, and the battle of Gettysburg 
commenced. 

We • sucioeeded on the first day in cliejlviixg ihe rebel advance. 
The second, the battle was renewed with great fury, withont 
any perceptible advantage to either side, night tinding the con- 
tending armies holding the same position. On the morning of the 
ihird the final struggle commenced, and after a bloody and obsti- 
nate jight, our army was crowned with victory, and the rebel arm}' 
in full retreat. The following day several corps of our army were 
ordered forward in pursuit of the retreating enemy and a large 
number of arms of all sorts and numerous prisoners fell into our 
hands, vvhile the remainder of the army' of Lee were driven back to 
Virginia. . The Kinth Corps to which I belonged, as well as several 
others, Vvere now detached from the army of the Polomac, and 
ordered for temporary duty with the army of the Cumberland, 
commanded by Gciu Tho;nas, who was then engaged with Hood's 
army in C)hio and Tennessee. On the 24th of November, we 
stormed and captured LookoutMountain, after a very hard fight. 
We were obliged to march up the steep sides of the mountain 
under a raking fire of the enerny, who were sheltered by tlieir 
earth-works, yet in spite of their galling fire we 'marched steadily 
up to the cannon's mouth, and by a rapid and sudden dash we be- 
came misters of the position, but not v\dthout losing a large num- 
ber of brave men. 

My first term of erJistment having expired, ray three brothers 
and myself, returned to Washington. Tlie Eighth U. S. Infantry 
which had been on parole for so:ne time in tliSt City, having been 
captured in Texas at the outbreak\ of the rebellion, were now de- 
clared exchanged, and were again filling up their ranks prepara- 
tory to taking the field. My three brothers and myself, again 
co.icluded to try the fortune of Vfar, and on the first of. February, 
1834, we -e-enlisted in the Eighth U. S. Regulars, after which the 
re-organization and consolidation of corps took place. After all 



11 

tlio hardships and the many battles I had passed through, I; like 
many others, became fearless of the dangers that yet awaited me. 
After re-enlisting in the Eighth U. S. Regulars, we joined the sec- 
ond Division under Gen. Wadsworth, of New York, who lost his 
life in defense of his country, on May 19th, 1334, and the fifth' 
corps, under command of Gen. Warren. lilarch the 9i;h, Gen. 
Grant was promoted Lieutenant General. On tlie 12th he was 
appointed Commander-in-Chief of the Army of the United States, 
a position which he occupied only on conditions, that he was to 
have full control ofths armie-5, wichc^it baing in';erfe;-3l with by 
the politicians, and tho^.e who were in power at Washington. 

This was accorded him, and therefore he was master of his po- 
sition, and had the handling of the armies as he thonght best for 
the interest of the country. I cannot but express the opinion, that 
if the same power had been delegated to McClellan, the war would 
have terminated at an earlier date, and much blood and treasure 
' been saved. 

]\Iay 3d, Grant's army moved across the Rapids, and were des- 
perately attaclvcd by Lee with undecisive results. The next day 
Lee resumed the attack at dawn, and continued all day, but vva^ 
finally compelled to withdraw. Our troop-; held their own posi- 
tion. The loss on this and the day before v.-as about fifteen thou- 
sand men on each side. 

After this we marched on to the W"il(Aerness, a den-^e forest of 
heavy timber, and in which it was impossible to bring artiler}^ to 
play, consequently the battle or series of battles which took place 
here, was fought with infantry alone. ^ It is almost a matter of 
impossibility for me to describe this battle ; I must leave that to 
an abler writer than myself. It was however the greatest musket- 
ry fire I ever listened to or wit nested. Volley after A'-olley from 
the whole line of battle was discharged simultaneously, and the 
cries and groans of our wounded heroes were terrible in the ex- 
treme. The rebels were drawn up in the wood-;, and for a while it 
was impossible to know their position or in Avliich way they were 
endeivoring to nu/e. Se/eral times they hurled their forces on 



12 

our light flcink, but Avere beaten lack again to their own shelter; 
trees were cut clown ! y bullets alone, such was the terrible and 
enormous fire from both sides ; and fnally, Avhen the rebels found 
it was impossible for them to hold their ])Osition hmger, they set 
fire to the Avoods in Avhich some fifteen thousand of our Avounded 
lay, nearly all of A\' horn perished. It* is needless to say that many 
of our bravest and best officers fell in the engagement. On the sev- 
enth tlie railroad from Fetersliurg to Richmond Avas cui" ])y tlie cav- 
alry under the command of Gen. P. H. i-^heridan, and a great num- 
ber of our prisoners re-captured*. 

The rebels having retreated from the Wilderness, our army Avas 
again oixlered foi'Avard, determined to press the eneun- and foi'ce 
them to another combat. After clearing the dense avoocIs, Ave found 
them draAvn up near Spottsylvania, evidently prepared to give us a 
warm rece])tion, and dispute our further march southward, and on 
the 10th, the gre:i.t l>attle of Spottsylvjaiia, Avas fouglit ; tlie loss on 
this dr'V Avas over ten thousand men on each side. This Avas tlie 
hardest .-nid bloodiest battle that I had yet experienced ; our artil- 
lery, now that Ave ]iad gained the open field, Avas again brought into 
position, and did terrible execution. The enemy fought Avitli des- 
peration and seemed determined on death or Anctory. About two 
o'clock in the afternoon our right Avina; av;;s ordered to chariie the 
rebebs left, I'ut it Avas unsuccessful, and Ave Avere com})elled to fall 
back, and a large number of our forces were taken pi'isoners. j\Iy 
three brothers and myself Avere among the number. 

I received a Avouud in my shoulder, scA'-ering the sympaihetic 
nerA^e of my right arm, leaving it to this day almost ])oweiless. 1 
also re.'eived a ball in my breist, passing through the breast-bone, 
and lodging in the back. I then started foi- the rear, and had gone 
but a short distance Avhen a shell wis thrown from one of the rele] 
batteries, and on exploding a piece of it struck my right foot. 
This last shot excluded all possiI)ility of reaching the rear. The 
Captain, standing near, saAV me fail, and thinking I Avas dead, no 
effort Avas made to carry me to the rear, a.nd consequently I Avas 
left in the rebel lines. As soon as an o[)[)oi-tunity offered itself, the 



13 

Captain wrote to my wife that I li'id been killed at the battle of 
Spottsylvania. 

I cannot s;iy that I suffered much pain at the time, although bad- 
ly wounded ; yet I felt very ^veak, faint and thirsty; the last caus- 
'^d me much sutfei-ing. Water ! Oh, water ! 

What Avould I not have given for a few drops of that, then price- 
less liquid ? But it was not to be had for either love or money. 
There was no friend near jue to moisten my parching lips and throat. 
Brother had forgotten his brother, the father iiis son, the son his 
father, though at any other time they would gladly have done all 
for e ich other '^ey could, but excitement had swept away those 
teuder tlioughts and alfections. Xo thought was taken of the broth- 
er Avho might be shot down at his side. "Victory or death,'' was 
the cry, and often from the lips of dying heroes you would hear the 
exciting cry of "give it to them boys ! give it to them !'' All was 
excitement. 

Thus the battle rolled on. Charge after charge was made, luit 
to no advantage to either side. Night came on and found the two 
armies still struggling for the mastery. My wounds had I ecome 
very painful, and I tried to crawl, but I couki not. i then thought 
of my wife and children. I felt that I should never see them more. 
Tlienmymind swept back to my three brotliers, who fought side bv 
side with me through so many battles. Wiiere are they ? Dead ? 
0, my Cod ! Can it be 1 Not one left to return hoine witli the sad 
tidings ? Thus I sank in a state of cojuplete exhaustion. How long 
I rem lined thus I do not know, but when 1 awoke I found that mv 
wounds had become very painful, so much so, that I couhJ control 
myself no longer. I madly called for the assistance ot some kind 
friend. My screams of agony brought an answer. 

"Who is there ?" came fror-! out of the darkness. 
"A friend, a dying friend," I answered. "Come to me and assist 
me. I will pay you well, only come." 

At that moment T lieard another voice, "Advance men." Then I 
discovered a squad of men approaching, and as they advanced I saw 



14 

that they were rebels. The\- came near where I waa lying, vvhen 
the leader said : 

•'What do you want '? and what is the matter ?" 

"Oh, I am wounded sir; please give me seme water/' I cried. 

"What regiment do you helong to ?' 

"The Eighth United States Eegnlars, Sir," 1 lej lied. 

"•Well, we will see to you. Where are you wounded 1" 

''In my arm, breast and foot," was my answer. 

"Are you able to walk ?" 

"No." 

"Take hold of him men, and bring him to the amibrlance," 

They picked me up and carried me according to orders, the am- 
bulance leivig but a short distance from me, but it had been hidden 
from my viev; by the thick bushes and !-hriiblery. On reaching 
the spot they l;egan to search me. I had some money which they 
took, also my watch, belts, cap and coat. Then they put me in the 
ambulance and started for the rear, a distance of about three miles, 
where we halted on a nice pleasant green and found <;lout one hun- 
dred prisoners under guard, among Avhom w^ere my three brothers, 
who had been taken prisoners too. They gave me some water, and 
bathed my wounds. The Surgeon came at ' last, and dressed my 
wounds us \\'Cil as he could, and left orders for ni}- Ijrother to bathe 
them in cold wafer, and gave me some laudanum to soothe my pain. 
I suffered considerably during the night, and in the morning the 
surgeon again dressed my wounds, and the boys made mo some 
coffee. Orders came to move to the south as fast as possille, for 
the Union forces had been re-info reed, and Grant was just m-aking 
his way in the direction of Cold Springs, so the Avounded were soon 
packed into an old lumber Vi/agon, and started for Andersonville. 
We were carried in wagons until we reached the Petersburg Eail- 
road, thence by rail to Macon, Georgia, where we halted for a few 
hours for refreshments, a,nd then returned to the cars and started 
for Andersonville prison. 



15 

LOCALITY AND DESCRIPTION OF ANDERSONV^ILLE 

PRISON. 



I uill now attempt to give my readers a description of" the 
prison. At tlie disstance of about eiglit hundred paces from the 
raih'oad wiiich connects the town with central Georgia on the 
north, and the Gulf of Mexico on the south, was the memorable 
prison. It was built on the suggestion of Howell Cobb, in 1863, 
and was completed in February, 1864. It is situated about fifty 
miles south of Macon, Georgia ; its longitude is 78 degrees 38 
minutes we>t from VVuhingcon ; hvtitude, 3 degress, 23 minutes, 
10 seconds north of the e(piator. This piece of ground had been 
thickly covered with pines, but they were cut down and foimed 
into a palisade over twelve feet high, side by side. This Ibrmed 
the bosmdary line inside of Afhich forty thousand human beings 
were herded at one time. There w;ts neither bush nor shrub left, 
not even a she 1 or shelter to protect them fiom the storm, or the 
b'.rr;ii;ig lie-tt of the sun. Such was the condition of this hoi-j"id 
])bice,, where many of ujy brave comrades suffered the }>angs ol' 
misei-y, })ain and death. Tiie })i ison was wjitered I y two small 
braiijiies, wliich coaneL-ted at about one thoirsand paces distance 
from the outer wall, and j)assed directly through the middle ')f the 
pri-on. On either side of the branch the ground was descending. 
On one side was the hospital ; on the other the sinks v^'ere ei-ected, 
and the filth of botli passed directly into the water that waste suj)- 
ply the inmates. It became so lillliy that in the month of July, it 
was filled with animal life, which made it nearly impossible for 
man or I ea<t to use it. Ihis was the first time we had the (.>ppor- 
tunity of beholding the notorious tyrant, Capt. Wiriz. Be was 
about i\\e feet, seven inches high, dark hair and dark complexion, 
and I should judge between thirty-five and forty }ears of age; he 
liad the ap[)earance of a cowai'd, but a man capable of practicing 
all m inner of cruelty, as I will show in the fbllo\sang pa.ges. 

Our arrival having been reported l)y the Offijer iu command of 
us, we were drawn u.p in line in front of Capt. W'iriz ileadquar- 



16 

ters, and our several names enrolled by the clerk among the other 
unfortunate sufferers of that horrible den of infamy. At that time 
my wounds were in a most horrible state, having received no 
care from the time I had left the front. The commanding Officer 
requested that I be taken to the hospital, which privilege was de- 
nied, Wirtz stating "that there was no more room until some of 
the yankees now there died." I was then conveyed to the thirty- 
third detachment at the old Stockade, and there I laid, exposed to 
the burning heat at day and the chilly dews of night, without 
blankets or shelter of any kind. My brothers were also assigned 
to the same detachment. A detachment consists of from eighty 
to one hundred men. There is an officer appointed from among 
the men to assist in drawing rations and reporting the number of 
sick and dead. This report is generally made out each day and 
reported to the officer-of-the-day at roll call. 

I will now attempt to state to my readers some of the horrors, 
as far as I have experienced at that accursed, and I might also 
say that damnable hole of sorrow ; for there are many mothers 
that even weep to-day, when they hear the name of that prison 
mentioned. Yes, many are the wives who mourn the loss of an af- 
fectionate husband. Many are the orphans to-day wlio were made 
so by starvation and death at Andersonville. As I have before 
stated to my readers, there was no shelter, with the exception of a 
rampart of logs, rising from lifteen to eighteen feet in height 
above the surface. It measured ten hundred and two feet in length, 
and seven hundred and seventy-nine feet in width. It was length- 
ened in the Fall of 1864, to sixteen hundred and twenty feet. 1 
think that was the last time repairs were made in it by order of 
the rebel Capt. Wirtz, who took command of the prison in the Fall 
of 1863, and i-emained there until its evacuation in the latter part 
of IMarch, 1866, when his career ended. During this short period, 
he had seen the bodies of not less than eighteen thousand brave 
soldiers, (who had been the victims of cruel and barbarous treat- 
ment)laid in their graves. Did they die with those diseases which 
nature inflicts upon man ?/No. I can safely say that out of that 



17 

number, over twelve thousand deaths were caused by starvation or 
ill-treatment. Shortly after our arrival at this place, a dead line 
was established, eighteen or twenty feet from the outer walls of 
the palisades, and orders read out that whoever should cross it, 
would meet with sudden death. In order to ensure the prompt 
execution of this order, notice was given to the guard that who- 
ever shot one of the d d Yankees, would be granted a furlough 

of thirty days. The rations issued at this time consisted of 
raw meal twice a day ; having no fire or wood we were obliged 
to eat it in its raw state mixed up with the filthy water before 
mentioned. It can be plainly seen by any intelligent person, that 
such food and water as I have described could but engender all 
kinds of contagious disease, which was the means of carrying 
off so many of our brave soldiers to an untimely grave. 

M}'- wounds having become so painful by exposure to the weath- 
er, that my brothers set to work and erected a sort of mud hut in 
order to ward off the rays of the burning sun, and it answered 
very well for that purpose ; but when the rain came, we were com- 
pelled to abandou our little cottage, as it was not water-proof. 
I had come to the conclusion that I should be obliged to remain 
here until I died. I never expected to behold the faces of my 
[le ir oiie^ at hoine, nevermore to inhale the sweet breezes of the 
Free North; for I felt I never coald recover from the condition 
in which I was now placed. But how true it is that ''man propo- 
ses and God disposes." My eyes could not penetrate the future; 
neither could my mind understand His will. At the time we entered 
it did not seem possible that I could survive the sufferings through 
which I had to pass. Having three wounds to contend with, and 
no melical assistance, I could cherish but little hope of ever be- 
ing at liberty again.in this world. I tried to forget those happy 
days of the past, and if I thought of them at all, it was but as a 
dream. I prayed thit my wife and children might be well cared 
for, an I thit th3 pro.nises of those benevolent friends might be 
fulfilled. 

Day after day wore away. One by one my comrades passed to 



18 

that "bourne from whence no traveler returns." I was terril ly 
startled by discovering a change in the countenance of my broth- 
ers. They were becoming thin, pale, and haggard. Oh, how 
plainly was despair and hopelessness pictured upon their tnces. 
Reason taught me that we must .-^oon part. I tried to cheer 
them up, and pointed oit to tliem the plei'jure-i that yet remained 
for them, but it was of no avail. They had become de^jjondent 
of the future. Sorrow and homesickness had struck deep into 
their hearts, and it wa^ evidant thit starvation wa^ a^coaiplishing 
its bitter work. 

]\Iany of my readers may wonder how I survived so mmy of my 
fellow soldiers who were not Avounded. 1 he only re;i!-on that lean 
give is, that I did not aHow my tiioughts to dwell upon my pre-ent 
condition. I had often heard eminent surgeons remark that home- 
sickness was the worst disease in the army. Was it surpM-ising 
that it should be prevalent in such a place as Andeisonville ? — 
Want of nourishing food and privilege of proper exercise would 
naturally tend toward melancholy and depression of spirits. Tiine 
woie on, and the wound in my bi-cast had nearly healed over ; the 
one in my arm was not so painful as it had been, tho;igh I was 
threatened with the jirospect of losing my arm, and [)robably vav 
life, being attacked Avith gangrene. I watched it closely, ;ind 
kept it clean. Cangrene, as a geiieral thing, is cai'.scd by allowing 
nithy matter to collect in the wound. On the !(Hh day of Aiigusl:, 
18G4, one of my l)rothei-s was taken with spasms, and died the 
same night. On the following morning, he was jiut into an 
old cart and carried to the inirying ground which wa^ situated on 
the north side of the ])rison, about one hundred }ards dista.nt iVom 
the stockade. JMy two brothei-s were pein)itted to go to bury his 
remains, under a guard. While looking upon his worn, emaciated 
countenance, it seemed that I could almost hear him say : 

"Oh, weep not for me, when 1 am gone, weep not for me broth- 
ers, though in prison I bid ,you adieu, I hope you will meet me in 
heaven. I have got my discharge, and am going home." 

Tliis was the (irst of the four brothers, but not the last whose re- 



19 

mains were liorne to the grave in this manner. . llaJ we pa-ssed 
thr()Ui;:;h these battles to meet sueh a fate — doomed to be starved 
to death at Andersonville '? 

After the return ot" my brothers fiom the l^urial, Capt. Wirtz 
passed throiiL^h the prison, armed with revolvers on every side, 
'and as he passed through our detachment, a. young man who had 
become so weak that it was utterly impossible lor liim to arise on 
his feet, looked up to the Capt. and spoke in a mournful but kind 
manner, saying : "Captain, please give me some bread or soUiO 
thing to eat for I an) dying of hunger." 

The fury of the cowardly dog was kindled on one who could not help 
himself, or oHer any resistance, he sprang forward like a demon 
with his revolvei" in his hand, struck the young man on the head 
near the temple, inflicting a terriMe wound ; the young man sank 
senseless to the ground. After Wirtz passed on,my bi-others wei.t 
to the insen.^ible man and bound up the bleeding wound, but it 
wa-; of little avail, as he fell into spasms and soon after died. 

Our rations at that time had been reduced to one pint of meil 
per day, and another fiendish order was issued, that no man shouhl 
be entitled to rations, unless drawn by himself. At that time 
there \vere m luy in the prison who were not able to crawl, much 
less walk to the Commiss;;ry's for tlieir rations. You could hear 
orie-j for liiead all over the prison yard. Some spoke of luxurioua 
ho;u3< wliich they left,others cried for their fathers and mothers far 
uway frcun their lic;u-ingand said: "How can you let us lay here 
and starve iu this horrid den of cruelty."" A man with the heart 
of a Pharaoh, or of stone, could but be melted at hearing the cries 
of those dying mortals, as the cry for bread, bread, bread, from the 
lips of every man, was borne olfon the winds. 

1 beheld one after another carried to their last resting place 
from out our number. What was the cause I Answer. Starva- 
tion. 

1 had become very weak at this time, and I found that, in spite 
of all attempts to be courageous, 1 was failing daily, wdiile the 
death of another brother onl}' increased my despondency. 



20 

On the 24th of August, 1864, another of my brothers was taken 
to the hospital, and on examination the doctors inoculated him to 
prevent small-pox, which acted as poison ; the flesh became black 
and swollen, and after the severest suffering he departed from this 
life. This was the second brother that had fallen a victim. 

Many others in the prison were iuDculated with the same mat- 
ter, and I can safely say that not one of the number ever recov- 
ered. This cruelty must have been inflicted for a purpose. 



21 

INTERVIEW WITH WIRTZ. 



I finally came to the conclusion that I would see Capt. Wirtz, 
have a talk with him, show him my condition and state to him 
my )ntsfortunes. So, with that purpose in my mind, I made my 
way to the gate leading to Headquarters, and there I met a rebel 
sergeant, by the name of W^ilson, from Jackson, Tennesee, who 
was on duty at the time. Although a rebel, I must say, he acted 
gentlemanly towards me, and it was the first kindness extended 
^ince I had become a prisoner. He looked at me with pity, and 
told me to advance, which I did. He then enquired of me my 
wants. I informed him of my intention of seeing Capt. Wirtz, and 
explained to him my condition ; for I had already lost two broth- 
ers in the prison, and one only beside myself, remained subject to 
his ])arl)arous treatment, and that I wished to leave the prison and 
rind my way homeward by the aid of some kind friend. 

He then inquired what regiment I belonged to, and my rank in 
the army. 

I told him I belonged to Company "B," Eighth United States 
Infantry, and at the time I was captured, was Orderly Sergeant 
of the same, and was captured on the 10th day of M ly, at the b it- 
tleof Spottsylvania. He wondered at my being captured, would- 
ed as I was, and said it was not right to capture men in my 
condition and hold them as prisoners of war, He then said he 
tho i^-ht it useless lor me to see the Captain, as he did not think 
he would do anything for me, and concluded by saying : 

"Sergeant, I would gladly let you go, myself, luit you know the 
duty of a soldier is to obey his superioi- officers; but to gratify 
your desire I will do all in my power ; I will send a guard wiih 
yo I to hea Iquarters." I thanked him, and he called a guard and 
tol i hiui to accompany me to C iptain Wirtz' headquarters. 

W ! started, and on approaching headquarters, Capt. Wirtz had 
jusi emerged from the door of his office. He turned and looked 
4tui"!, and the guard, who was supporting me to keep me from 
tal ;. He then turneil to the guard and suitl, i: <\ )ougli man- 



22 

ner, acconqvriine!] with a volley ofoalhs wliicli I will not rejicat : — 
*'Whit do you want here with that miserable, d — d Yankee ?" 

The i;-uard saluted him and replied, that he had brought me I'or 
the purpose of seeing him. lie then turned to me, cursing and 
swearing teiu-ibly, and demanded of me what I wanted. 

Itheasaid : "Captain, I a,m a cripple, as you can plainly see: 
unable to render service either for or against you, and I have come 
tj ;ee if you wo!. Id not lot me go from this horrible place. I will 
eve.) venture, weak as I am, to hud my way back to where I came 
fi-om. I hive already lo<t two brothers in that prison pen, tind it ib 
evident that I must soon follow, having no medical treatment, and 
no nourishing food to sustain me. I wish to go, and once more be- 
hold the faces of the dear ones at home. Pray, Sir, giant me thie 
request as a friend — a dying fiu'end." 

. lie lool;ed at me and buighed, as one wlio had a* hie\ed a great 
victory, and said : "-You did no.t think of that when you cariie to 
rob us of our homes, and niggers, you d d yankee nigger ihief." 

"No Sir, 1 did not come for that pui'pose. You are m'stakcn in 
me ; I came as a soldici', and to ju-otect the right-- of luy cormtry and 
to e ^tablish the lavvs of iny forefathei's ; I caiuo foi- what I a\ onhi g<» 
again for, if I was able, but I am not, 1 wisli to go from h-3re, Ci}." 
tain, hold me no longer to your ] ersccution.'" 

He then answered me still nn)re abru|)tly than befoi'e, saying: 
"You mean you came here to destroy the i-ights ofyou!' forefatbers' 
and the liws they fortght to establish, and as ior your going away 
from here, you cannot. Not even one of you that are coni'ined inside 
of that prison pen shall escape, if it was in my power not one v>'(;uld 
live to see the setting sun." 

I then turned to him and said : '^'I sincerely thank God thai he has- 
even beUl that small portion of power from }0u, but it is not ii: 
yaar pjWJi", and [ trust it never will lie."' Iliad be:;o:Tie drivea to 
despeiation, and no longer continued my mild lone of language to- 
ward him; but I told hun I did not think thei'e v. as u demon like 
him 0,1 earth — not one t)f bravery, br,t oi'cowaixlice. He theudiew 
a revolver and, | ointing it at me, said : "Do you see this ? — anoth- 



\ 



\ 



^r word, anl I will blow yoii tliroi ;li. I hive heard enough of yoU> 
you uiiserable Yankee, nigger thief." 

C.dinly, I .stepped aside from the guard, and thus said, looking 
at liiia as disiiiiiil'ul as a serpent : 

"Do so if you wisii ; to die by a bullet is an honorable soldier's 
death, but to starve to death is not.'' 

Face to face we glared at each other, until his cowardly hand 
began to lower. 

'I do regret, Captain, that I fdioidtl die defenceless by a cow- 
Hrd's hand. * 

He started with passion and again withdrew, for he had met the 
counteaauee of ona who feared not death. He then said ; "Go back 
to the t)risoa, (also cursing the guard) and never permit one of 
those d — d Yankees to com3 so neir me again." And as I left, he 
cursed and said : "You are too willing to die, t ie.e:oi-e, I will hold 
you." 

I replied : "Captain, you may hold me too long, until Irij-e to a 
more honorable position than you now have ; a position, I would 
no': exohauge for the world ; for I may yet see you brought to jus- 
tice." 

Wirtz replied: "Yes, I have often heard of drowning m3n calch- 
ing at straws." 

"Yes, and I have heard of a hanging man gasping for air. 

\Ve parted, and this was the last time that ever I spoke to him, 
until 1 beheld him at the Old Capitol at Washington, AVhere he 
received his just deserts, for God had granted my \ rayer, 

1 returned to the gate, and there I met the Sergeant. He eager- 
ly inquired of me what success I had ? I answered him "none but 
to remain here and starve." / 

"Just as I expected," he replied, "but I cannot help it." 

"Well, then I suppose I must remain here until I starve to death, 
for my courage has died within me ; my only hope is now blasted, 
and my courage is gone. I feel th it 1 laist indeed give up, and 
be numbered among the dead, with my comrades at Anc^ersonville. 

So saying, I went back to prison, to meet myTate, and there^ I 



24 

found my last and only brother, lying in a state of imconsciousneiiii* 
I hastened to bring him water and wash his face and temples. He 
recovered, and looking up at me, said : "Is that you George," (and 
after recovering sufficiently he continued) "I came down here, and 
not finding you, I supposed you had been carried out in the dead 
cart, and think it would be full as well if we were both with out 
brothers in that grave-yard." 

I told him of my interview with Capt. Wirtz, and the treatment 
I had received. He then flew into a passion and exclaimed : 

"Could i just get my hands on that villain, I would crush hin- 
beneath my feet as I would a serpent." 

I told him to stop, that he must remember he was unarmed, and 
would have no chance against such an enemy. 

He then Avondered where our army could be, and why they did 
not send men to exchange us ; "I only wish to live until I can see 
the capture of this prison, and it=s chief officer brought to justice.' 
But little did he think that his time indeed was near at hand, 
for that very night he was taken sick, and after lying several dayp 
without aid or assistance, fell into a state of idiocy, and finally in- 
sanity, in its worst, and most revolting form. 

Hunger does not attack all persons alike ; Some sink down with- 
complete exhaustion, and seem to sleep themselves to deatlj, while- 
others become insane. My brother was one of the latter class. Oh! 
imagine how I must have felt, when obliged to stand by him and 
gee him thus suffer. It w.is worse than death to see him eiting 
the tlesh from his arm?, wholly unconscius of what he wa'* aliout 
Oh, God ! can I ever forget that terrible sight of horror ! No pen 
or language is able to depict such scenes at Andersonvilie. Many 
a soldier, when he read? statements like the?e contradicted, feel? 
again the (ire kindle in his breast, and imagines himself carried 
back into the battle's fury once more, for many there are v/ho 
blindly deny the cruelty of Capt. Wirtz.either from want of knowl- 
edge, or sympathy with his cause. 

After the death of my brother, I was left alone. I had now lost 
three. brothers who had become victims to the cruelty of Wirta 



25 

Jiiid his followers. Well mip;ht my courage fail me, and my hope 
lie within me. I felt that [ should never go home to my native 
Htate, and inhale its balmy bree/.es. The wound in my breast had 
now entirely healed and that of my arm was much better, but 
my foot was in a sad condition. 

After the 26th of February, 1865, T lost all recollection of what 
pas^^ed around me. I understood, though, that on or about that 
time, the long expected army of Sherman, made its appearance ift 
the distance, that the rebels evacuated the prison, and hurried the 
prisoners southward, leaving myself and many ot'.iers who were 
not able to stir, upon the field to perish. We were carried into the 
old Hospital, and there remained until the arrival of our troops. 

My weight at this time was ninety-thre'^ pounds. I had former- 
ly weighed one hundred and sixty. 

My first recollection of anything was in Washington, June 16, 
1865, making in all over three months that I had been in a state of 
unconsciousness. I found myself, at this time, an inmate of Doug- 
las Hospital. 

This Hospital was situated in a pleasant locality in the city of 
Washington, and was a present from the Hon. Stephen A. Douglas 
(whose name it bears) to the government, for the use of the sick 
and wounded soldiers of the war. It was admirably adapted for 
this purpose ; and was fitted up with every convenience for the 
lie.dth and comfort of it-; unt'ortanate inmates. The wards were 
filled with neat, single iron bed-.-teads, nnd the bedding of good 
qaility and scrupulously clean. The walls were tastefully decora- 
ted with wreaths of evergreens, and the perfume of numerous bo- 
quets of flowers ; together with every luxury that could be obtain- 
ed to tempt the taste, gave evidence that our sick and wounded 
heroes were not forgotten. 

Those noble women, the Sisters of Charity, attended to the wants 
of the inmates, and could be seen like ministering angels, going 
from patient to patient, speaking words of comfort and cheer. — 
This was indeed heaven, compared to that horrible hole, Anderson- 
ville ; and many a soldier thanked God, that through the liberality 



26 

of Ills countrymen they had some place, where they could receive 
thiitcire an 1 attention which their sickness and wounds required. 

Wlien I first entered Doughis Hospital, I am tpld it was the 
opinion of the Sergeant in attendance, that my case was a hope- 
less one ; and that it would be almost a miracle, if I recovered.—- 
I wa3 placed in one of the wards, and every care taken of me that 
was possible. In fact I, rayselF, know that, had it not been for the 
attention I received, I should, ere this, have been numbered with 
the dead. "Weeks passed on, and 1 t?till remained in an unconsciout- 
state. At length my senses returned, and I endeavored to imag- 
ine where I was. 1 looked around at the decorated walls, and all 
aj»i»eared as a pleasant dream; so difficult was it for me to realize 
my present condition, after the treatment 1 had uudergone in thf 
re', el prison. 

Seeing one of the attendants passing through the ward, I mo 
tioaed for him to come to me, which he did, I then asi^ed him 
where I was. He replied, "Douglas Hospital, Washington." I 
could not believe him and so told him. Just then the doctor camt 
around and ordered no more conversation, remarking that my case 
reipiired sleep, and ordered sonse Uicdicine for u.e, topiodv.ce that 
result, for the least excitement was lialle to eii'ect the brain, and 
niake me raving. 1 took the medicine, and soon after fell asleep 
How long I remained so, 1 am unable to say; but Avlien i 
again awoke the crisis had past, and 1 gradually began to realize, 
my })Osition, and to gain strength. Day by day, however, I Ava?* 
forced to remain in my bed, hardly able to raise my hand to my 
head. My wounded leg had been daily dressed, and was healinjr 
rapidly, although the use of it was gone forever. 

Finally, my strength gained so that I was able, once more, with 
the aid of crutches, to get out of bed and walk around the wnrd. 
two or three times a day at first ; and thus, by degrees, got out 
again, although a helpless cripple for life. I did not write htrnf 
while I was in hospital, for I had learned that my Captain had 
reported me dead, to my family ; and I did not wish again to cause 
them any unnecessary trouble or uneasiness, as I was gaining 



27 

strength every day. I expected soon to return to my home and 
embrace in pers-on the loved ones there. 

As soon as I was able, I i^et about obtaining my discharge, and 
papers necessary for me to receive my settlement with the 
government. After many weeks of trouble and anxiety, I received 
them; but not without being compelled to make a trip to Macon, 
Ga., where my regimaut was tlien stationed. After my return 
from Macon, I proceeded to the War Deptirtment and obtained my 
final settlement with the United States. 

My business in Washington being now completed, I left that city 
for Baltimore. Here I found a great change had taken place 
since my first visit. Our glorious old flag, which at one time w-as 
torn down and trampled in the dust, was now floating to the breeze 
overall the public buildings, and many private residences, as evi- 
dence that treason Avas dead, and our noble Republic once more 
established on a firm and solid basis ; the rebels there were made 
to acknowledge their crime, and ask forgiveness from the nation 
they had sought to destroy. 

My trip to Macon, and return, had so excited my nervous system, 
that Avheu I arrived in Philadelphia, I was completely exhausted ; 
and obliged to be carried to tho Volunteer hospital, where I again 
endured a long spell ofsickncss. I received every attention that 
could be paid me, and had I been at the home of my mother, I 
could not have received kinder treatment, than from the ladies of 
Philadelphia. I shall always remember them with gratitude. 



LINES TO THl. MEMORY OF MY BROTHERS. 

Four lovint; hrotlicrs in (Uie Iimie, 

FiMirloyiil oihers in l!ie fie'd ; 
TliP first to wait, tlie hi.st to ooiiie, 

But Wiiit lor lli.^si! whose (loom is .sealed. 

Or ;vil whose doom is sealed. l)Mt one, 
Wiieii vviir's dread W(,rk at l;isc is dor.c ; 
For of those loyal Inn;!, i is fi-i.r, 
The eUl'r thr - riMi,rin<! liouior'. 



28 

While he, the war, the battle-scarred, 

The long thought dead, while prisou barred, 
Returns at last, alone to tell 

How, by his side, those brothers fell- 
How he was tried on battle ground. 

And how he suffered, prison bound; 
While others suffered, till death's last breath. 
By fiendish mortals, starved todeath. 

As soon as I was again convalescent, I started for my home in 
Boston, via. New York ; and it seemed to me, that the trip was 
one of years instead of hours ; so anxious was I to reach again my 
home, and see my family. None can imagine my feelings but those 
who have gone through the same ordeal. 

How happy was I Avhen the whistle sounded our approach to 
Boston; But this happiness was doomed soon to be turned to sor- 
row. My troubles had not yet ceased, for the grim messenger of 
death had been there, and made his inroads into the family circle. 

It will be remembered by the reader, that in the foregoing pag- 
es of this book, I stated, that at the time of my eidistment, I had a 
comfortable home which I had purchased at a cost of ten thousand 
dollars ; seven thousand of Avhieh I had paid down, and left a 
mortgage for the balance on the property. At the time I en- 
listed, I went to the holder of the mortgage, and informed him of 
my intentions ; telling him that in yll probalulity, when the mort- 
gage become due, I Avould not be home ; ;tnd th;it T would not 
like to have it foreclosed, but would rather give a second mortgage; 
so that in case of my not returning, the first one could be paid. lie 
informed me that if I went into the service, he would never fore- 
close the mortgage. The place should I'C a home for my wife as 
long as he lived. This seeming act of generosity and kindness 
satisfied me; and believing the party to be a man of honor I took 
no papers to guarantee his statement, but felt assured that my wife 
and little ones would have a home, no matter what should happen 
to me. On the news of my death reaching my wife, she was taken 
sick, and, unfortunately, never recovered. At her death, the hold- 



29 

er of the mortgage, believing me also dead, contrary to his prom- 
ise, at once foreclosed the mortgage, and the property was put up 
at public sale : the proceeds of which did not amount to enough to 
liquidate his claim and other bills that had to be settled. This left 
me about seventy dollars in debt ; so that when I arrived at home, 
I found all gone, with the exception of what little I had received 
from the government. 

I arrived at the Depot in Boston about two o-clock at night, pro- 
cured a hack, and started for my former place of residence, not 
knowing what trouble I had to contend with, but thinking what 
an unexpected visitor I would be to my wife and little ones after 
four long years of absence. 

Street after street was passed, and at length the carriage halted 
in front of my former home. I stepped out of the carriage, ap- 
proached the door and pulled the bell. The summons was answered 
by a gentleman who enquired my wishes, and in reply I inquired 
for my wife. He stated to me that she had formerly lived there, 
but had died in 1864, and that the property had been sold to him 
It is impossible for me to describe my feelings on reciving this 
sorrowful news. Fate indeed seemed to be against me, and I knew 
not what to do. I thought to myself, it would have been much 
better for uie, had I perished on the battle-field, or been laid along 
side of my brothers at Andersonville. I was now truly alone. I 
knew not the whereabouts of my children, and in fact was alone in 
the world, a friendless and helpless wanderer. 



LINES TO THE MEMORY OP MY WIPE. 



The bird wliicli sang so sweet h;is flown, 

Its thrilli I'j; no'ci no m ire we'll hear, 
A fiiiriT I.ind has claim-d its own. 

And orentler lays 'twill warble there. 
No more, as seasons pass, 'twill come, 

To cheer with soiif^ the pirent ii vst ; 
No in in;, in Spring's s )rt hour, we"ll feel 

Th> inil ie:ic; which it's sonij pj^sesseJ. 



30 

Tlie voice wliifh waked n|) meinorv's cltot'd 

Within our home, 'lis hushed :ind still ; 
Thosp chords vihratiii<r, deep and stroiig, 

With mo ifiitui echoes liow iiry tilled— 
That voioe with us no more will join, 

In eviMiin',' song, iind inoruiiig prayer ;. 
Its jcyous notes seem lingei'ing still — ■ 

Siid contrast to the ;^lo(jm now liere ! 

Though lost to us, that voice is tuned 

To nob'pr songs than earih cati give ! 
E'en now triumphant praise resounds 

'Jo Him who (lied lliut she might live ! 
To God who gave, then h-t us b mv, 

If lie sees best his j;it't t' recall ; 
Stillle' o !'• fairh iim'irii'viug tru-it. , 

And feel that hne has ordered all. 

From my late residence, I drove to the Parker House, whore I 
took lip my quarters for the remainder of the night. As soon as 
daybreak made its appearance, I started in search of my chiklren ; 
and after a long and weary se irch, I foinid them at the Orphan 
Asylum where they had been sent by some of the charitable insti- 
tutions of the cit}'. I remained with them the greater portion of 
the day. My oldest daughter recognized me, and told me all con- 
cerning the death of her mother, and also stated that she supposed 
I was deLid. Having no home, or place to which I could take them, 
I permitted them to remain there until I could procure them a 
home. Had it not been for them, I think I should have give i 
away altogether to despondency, for 1 was without either home or 
friends. I thought of the words of my Savior, when he said : "The 
birds of the air have ne^ts, and the foxes have holes, but the Son 
of man hath not where to lay his head." 

I knew that as long as my money lasted, I could have a home, 
but in my condition, I could not work, and the money I had would 
go but a little way towards supporting myself and three children. 

After remaining some time in Boston, I made application for 
work at my ti-ade, and tried to run a drill press ; but found my 
limbs would not admit of the task, and had to abandon it. I then 



31 

I'esolved to make aiiotlier e!Vort lo secure a liome. On retuniing 
to S|)riii,:j;lieM M:i-s,, 1 a'fuiii married, and settled myself, 
wltji my wife and childieii, I'lH misfoiM iiiie still seemed to follow 
nie : :iii<l iu Uie sliorl -jkicc oi'one month and t\\ eiity->e\ e'l; <lays, 
my wile was atimked wiilt txjtlmid fever, and in ei;^htc'en days,. 
Avus ranied (o ilic -rave. Mv home was a;4ain hi'oki'ii ii)». and 
tliiee liiile moilierh>> cltildifii li'. I ii[ion my hands. My cnp of 
8ori<)w was, in<eed, full k. o\ e r. '.\\ Ing ; antl no jnorc ha])fiiness 
seenu'd to le in sU».e for me. I tan (ojnjiaie myself to nothing 
less { iiaii a te)n,iesl'-ln>t a!id >iiii. wrecked mariner, east on some 
lonely island vviilioiu any «>iil; in coiniort or sympathize with him 
in his tiouhle, loi- 1 had l«)-t nearlv all that was dear to me on earth. 
My three brothers lay at AnJersonville, vietims of starvation, 
and my two wives taken fium me, with no one left but my three 
little ones to comfort me in my sorrows and misfortunes. At that 
time I was doin<^ well in bii-inc-^-. 1 liad obtained a j«)b at [)ed- 
dliii"- bocdvs, on tiie ConncL tient Hiver llailroad, tlnouuh the kind- 
ness of Mr. Brainard, the (jleneral Siipei intendent. My three 
children were with me ; and allhough 1 hud passed through so many 
hard and bitter trials before, 1 now clieiished the hojie, that my 
pleasures on eartii Wi-re ik(1: ye' all d.-aied me. I began to j)ic- 
inre. ont the Irtppinu.-s of a hiuuo (Uice more, ai.d intended to give 
my children a, good ivdui' ition, which would be all that I could do 
f;«rthL;m; l)nt when this misfori uiie came upon me, all my thoughts 
'd' plea.^nie seemed taken from mc, like the tlowers of summer, torn 
!y some rude, blasi. It was evident to me that 1 could not pay the 
U)ard(>f my cliildren cuit oi"tlie snuill amount of my earnings; and 
what was 1 to do ? .Some ctf the sympathi/.ers(with the poor soldier) 
• il" the present day, might ask if there were not poor-houses and 
asyinins enough in the country in which I could place my little 
ones ; and soldiers' homes for myself; but wdioof them, if they ex- 
changed places with me, could bear to see their children torn 
away ^Vom them, and left to the cold charities of the world, 
more especially after enduring what 1 had. Others may inquire if 
[ have nut a pension ? My answer is, yes ; but I need not remind 



32 

j'liy .-^'eiHible person how far twenty dollars per month will ^o to- 
ward the support of a family, after payin;^ house rent in a New 
England City. 

After snlVerinj;' the privations of the world alone with my three 
cliildren for several months, 1 lesolved again to marry, in order 
that I might be able to leave home, and, in addition to my pension, 
find some other moms to support my family and give them an edu- 
cation. 

Accordingly, T married my third and last wife, and started again 
in pursuit of some employment, leaving my children under the 
care and protection of a kind mother. 1 went to Wasnington, and 
endeavored to obtain employment under the Government, I had a 
tolerably fair education, and thought that 1 might be able to get 
something to do among the various depaitments ; but was doomed 
to disappointment. I was referred from one place to another, and 
always met with the same answer : "[ have nothing for you to do. 
hut go to such an one, and 1 think you will fiiid employment." 

From day today, I traveled round the city, \mi to little purpose. 
T Vtecame tired and disgusted, and at last re>olved to return home. 
On my arrival home,! made u[) my miiKl to go West, and see some 
of my old railro id friends who reside I there. I went to Milwau- 
kee, Wis., and throgh the kiudue-is of S S. Mei'rill of Mii w lakec 
and St. Paul railroad Company, and of C.ipt. Allison, news agenf- 
of the same, I obtained permission to po'ldle army son ;•-, Oii tht 
various trains of the road ; and with good success : so uiuch so..- 
that 1 was able to support myself and funily, coinfinlably witii. 
the necessaries of life. 1 continued at this for some tiiise, and oi> 
my trips, met with various different char;»,Gters ; some were ver\ 
kind, and gladly assisted me ; others asked me all sorts of nonsen- 
sical questions relative to the war ; others would pretejid to It- 
eijoying a sound sleep, to avoid seeing me as I wont around 
ivlany more wt)uld inquire if I could not outer the Soldier's Home 
1 answered them, that I could, but whi!: was to become of my wife 
and children '. to which they would make no reply, but coiiibide 
tlu'y had no change, and could do nothing for me. However, th^ 



inaj')iity of the traveling public treated me very kindly, and fell 
disposed to assist me. 

My business becoming dull on this road, and it being known to 
others that I was doing well, numerous other applications were 
mile, by unfortunate pjople like myself, for the same priv^ilege ; 
and soon the trains were full of the lame and blind, all seeking a 
livelihood. I came to the conclusion that the traveling communty, 
were too much annoyed by so many applicants I'oi- charity, and re- 
solved to leave this road and go further West ; which I did, and 
removed to Owatonna, Steele Co., Jtliiniesota. This place is situ- 
ated at the junction of the Winona & St. Paul railroad, and is a 
town of about four thousand inhabitants. It depends for its bu- 
siness principally on the neighboring farmers, and what trade it 
may obtain from travelers. It is beautifully located and very 
heilthy. Having become tired of so much traveling, I resolved to 
invest what little capital I had accumulated, in some kind of bu- 
siiie-!s, nul opened an eating huus.3 at that place. 1 coiitinucd at 
this i)at a short time, for I found there was so much opposition, 
that it was almost impossible for me to do anything, and as soon 
as I found an opportunity, I sold out iny place, and removed to 
Miniiovpolis, and coi)tinued my former business, at times. 

I must here return my thanks to S. S. Merrill, and other mana- 
gers of the Milwaiikee and St. Paul railroad for their kindness to me, 
fur, li;i<lit not been for them, 1 sliould have been unable to su[)[»ort 
5uy family, and must have sunk like many others in my situation, 
iuto utter ruin, 'i'heir kinditess to me will never be forgotten, 
either by myself, wife or children, for, by their aid, I have been 
able to support my family, and provide them with the comforts of 
lifo. 1 must also say, that the conductors of the trains, with whom 
I h Lvc run, viz : Messrs. Gadwell, Wing and Hubbard, have al- 
ways treated me with uniform kindness, and done all in their pow- 
er, !() accomodate and assist me, as well as the traveling public; 
and 1 liope to be able at some futia'e day, to show that their kind- 
ne-- has not been thrown away, and that I have not, like many 
otiier soldiers, squmrlered the money so generously contributed 



34 

fn tuj U: (iii piii)I'c for tfi'^ ,>'![>port of ray niiuily in (Iriiiki'ii;^ and 
rth'-'r exoe-<e>, all of whi -h t-:i.i b.* r^.-. i l>y vNifi;!;^ my home Id 
Miniieapti!!-. 

J U ivee iile ivo' e ], ill (bis little I'oak, to de-cril/e {he \iivio\w 
sceiiiM throiiLi'h whlrli I Irive ]r,i--ei]. while serving in the army 
of the I'aileil Siate-^ ; aul iiup-rle-t ;!-; I know it tolie.l have the 
sati.^l'aci iivii of knowing th it rhej^cenrs I have dm-icrilieil, and the 
s I t'eriijg-i which t h ive eidiire 1, are not exaggerated, or colored 
in the least, but true in evevy j>ai-ticiilar. ThL- fi are some into 
whose hands these pages may fall, who will, perhaps, doubt some 
portion of my story, but to such, I will say, let them even to this 
day, visit the gra\«>-v;ird at Audeisonville, and count the graves 
of naineroas hp:'0?4 wholie there "sleeping tiie sleep that know? 
no waking.*' Let them examine the reci>rds of tho War Depart- 
ment for information, and al>o the }m ison st;itemeiits of the rebel 
iiuthorities ihe.nselves, and tlicy will liiid tj);it my statements, in- 
stead of being exaggerated, do not begin to coraiiate with the of- 
ficial re{)0rts. I h ive only wiitten in tliese }>ages, what came un- 
der my own observation, and if yon leeollect the condition I was in 
while a prisoner, yon will see that I had but few o[ipoitunities ol 
witnessing all the horroi's of that die. td'nl jdace. Visit t-on.e oi 
the survivors o!"onr late war, and ask them to give yon their oj)in- 
ion of the treatment they receive<l while ]nisoners of war; and 
they will not only bear me out in my statements, but relate to you 
scenes worse than I have evci" depicted. Co to the liomes of those 
widowed wives and mothers who have lost alTectionate husi)and^. 
ami sons, and let them show you some of the statements which 
they have received IVom those dear ones, and then draw your con- 
clusions. 

it may be well before concluding my (ask, to review the past- 
and look over the results obtained by the nidiaji})y war. A great 
sHcrilice of blood and treasure has been made, and the question 
naturally arises, whether the end obtaine 1. justified the means em- 
ployed. 1 answer, yes ; true, we find our country involved in an 
enormous debt, whieh necessarily imposes a very heavy tax, in the 



35 

form of SI amp dnties, and other lueaus, in order to liquidate the 
burden, and save onr uationrd iionor. A great many civilian em- 
})loyees are recjuired at an enormous expense, to enlorce the laws. 
It often happens, that men of a worthless eliaraeter. are ap[)(jinted 
to these positions through political influence, and a great aniount 
ot" abuse showered on tlie appoinring power, when some of these 
public servants are fouml to be defaulters in large amounts. But 
wdio is responsible for these a}<pointments ? Is it the executive 
who ai)p'-!nts them to office, or the members of congress, and pol- 
iticians who reconnnend them for position ? I answer, the latter 
are responsible : and, as they are elected to their position by the 
voting po[ndatio.i, the people shoidd not blame any one but them- 
selves; for if they would only ignore paity creeds and platforms, 
and look to the interest and welfare of the country, they would be 
moie careful, and elect only men of known ability and character ; 
men who would scorn bribery and coriuption, and work only for 
^he welfare of the nation, and to iiiil lie good. Until suidi is the 
case, wj c in oxpejt nothing else but unfaithful public servants, 
and a!i immense iiiuonnL of corruption in dflicial circles. Let us 
look at the re-;ults olttained by this war. 1 ask the I'cadcr tu go 
b ii-.k with me to the outbrcik of the lebellion, and behohl the con- 
dition of the country. 'J'lir>!iigli the numerous political bickerings 
oi"our I'epreseiitative-!, Xoitb and i^'outh, and the agilJition of the 
slavery question, we lind onr Coniitry in a tei'iihle state oi" excite- 
ment; an'l as soon a-> the result ol' I he Tresidential eleeiion was 
known. Slate afrer ."^tale began to -:'.cde iVom '.he I'nion, and pre- 
]i.:'rel'or a tl>M<llv- strii'e. (/o.icibaii'.in was a matter o\' impos.^ibil- 
iiy, and m^^n oi' re.iown, who were ri)i'ine,ly lookeil upon as the 
warmest tViends and suppoiiers of I he (Toveiaimeut, weie drifting' 
in the ciii-renr ofsecessioii. What re nained fo,- the loyal states 
to do, and what alternallve h id they .' Were we to see the glorious 
w'oi-k of our l"orefaihei'> de^h•o_)■ed. a,nd show to the Monarchial 
(loverii iients of Kni-Ojie ;h at bej!;' lii ani>ni was a i'aibire, or to 
strive by all means, even to that diead al.ei native, War, to piotect 
and tave our institutions i We had tiied by a peace Congress to 



36 

settle the difficulty l)etween tlip contending })arties, but witlioufc 
success. The first gun was tired by the South, and the war com- 
menced. 

It was then, that the people of the loyal States showed to the 
world how much they loved their country. Men, never before ac- 
customed to war, and who knew nothing of its terrors, quit their 
peaceful avocations and enlisted for the national defence. The 
farmer left his field, the merchant his business, the tradesman his 
work, and all hurried forward, at the call of their Chief, to the seat 
of War. 

The condition of our forces at this time was anything but fi it- 
tering. The small regular army of the Government was scattered 
all over our vast country, and the greater portion of our arms and 
munitions of war had been sent south during the administration of 
James Buchanan, by his Secretary of War, John \j. Floyd ; while 
many of the best officers, both of the army and navy, resigned 
their commissions and joined the rebel forces, against that fiag to 
which they owed so much. 

Washington was in no condition for defence, and thearmy which 
had concentrated there was composed of gieen recruits, and was 
in no condition to take the field. I]owcv;_'r, after great exer- 
tion, regiments and brigades were formed, and the be.>'. prepaia- 
tiou made, possible at the time. Earth-works weie thiown nj), for 
the pi'Otection of the Capitol, and the new troo|)s constantly drilled 
for the duties of a soldier. Fiiiall}', the order to march went foilh, 
and the memorable and disasti-ous battle of Ibdl Hinj was ibiight. 
I will here state tiiat, at this time, no one b)r a Uioment thought 
that we were doomed to four years of blooilsjied. The power and 
resources of the South had been altogethei- underestimated; and 
this first engagement showed veiy plainly that wo had no com- 
mon foe to contend with. Their soldiers, unlike ours, wei'e accus- 
tomed to the use of fire-ainis. They had heen preparing long be- 
fore for th^i contest, and at the coniinencement of the war, were 
Jar better prepared than our Ibrces, besides having the advantage 
of chosen positions, and fighting on their own soil. 



37 

After the disaster al Hull Rmi, our nation was awakened to the 
necessities of the occasion. Prochunations were issued, calling 
forth men, the army was re-organi/.ed, and Generals of renown 
pi lu-ed in co nm uid. while the whole resources of the nation were 
taxed to the utmost to furnish the necessary arms, equipments, 
and munitions of war. In an incredible short time, we had creat- 
ed a navy capable of blockading the whole Southern coast, besides 
the necessary transports forcai'ryiu}^ troops and expeditions; also, 
other vessels of war necessary lor the protection of our flag on fo- 
reij^'n waters, and the high seas. We had not only the South to 
contend against, V)ut foreign sympathizers with the rebellion. Eni"-- 
land was doing all in her power tor the success of the South. Ves- 
sels for the express purpose of running the blockade were built in 
her ports; and arms, medical stores, and other miniitions of war 
run intoSouthcrn ports ; while her Alabama, and other piratical 
cruisers were aimed, manned, and sent out to sea to destroy our 
commerce. But, for all this, our Country was e(pial to the emer- 
gency, as the secjuel shows. We have deveh^ped )esources which 
before wcic unisuown, and [)roved to the world that America was 
not only the (irst, but the most powerfid nation on earth. Our 
inoiiitcM's cau-^ed a I'cvobition in na\al warfare, and their achiev- 
nieuts challenged the adniiiation of the civilized world. 

Month after month jiassed liy, and, for a time, fate seemed to 
be against us ; the Southern arms were victorious on many helds, 
and disap[)ointment and despair seemed to be surging the public 
mind. Our treasury was nearly empty, and it became necessary 
for some legislation, to raise the necessary funds for the continu- 
ance of the war, which was accomplished through the exertions 
of the Hon. S. P. Chase, Secretary of the Treasury, and other fi- 
nanciers. United States' legal-tender notes and bonds were issued, 
guaranteed by the Country, and loan-', for large amounts negjtiat- 
ed, both at home and abroad. Then came the Peninsular cam- 
paign, under that noble Soldier, McClellan— victorious for a time, 
and our army in sight of the city of Richmond. 

Hope seemed once more to dawn upon us, but again uere we 



38 

doomed to disappointment. Through some mismanagement 
at the city of Washington, the original plans of the campaign 
were abandoned, and the forces of McDowell, who were to form a 
junction with our right, from some unexplained reason, were with- 
held. This necessitated a change of base, which was accomplish- 
ed, after seven days hard fighting, in which our losses were enor- 
mous, and came very near bringing destruction on our whole army ; 
but, thanks to the noble generalship of McClellan, the Country 
was spared this humiliation ; and after our victory at Malvern 
Hills, we were again ready and willing to meet the enemy on oth- 
er fields. Following this, came Pope's disaster at Bull Eun — the 
same field so bravely contested the year before. Then follow on 
from defeat to victory at Anteitam and South Mountain. Now 
that the country was radiant with hope, and our army on the eve 
of another battle, we find, through the jealousy of politicians, and 
political intrigue, McClellan removed. Yes, he, who, under the 
circumstances, had done so well, was the idol of his men. Gen. 
Burnside was appointed to supercede him, and, although in com- 
mand of the army, he was only nominally so, for the powers in 
Washington seemed to be posted better than the commanding Gen- 
eral, and ordered his onward inarch, with the rcsidt of which we 
are all acquainted. Many a life was sacrificed on the field of Fred- 
riclvs1)urg, th.e res{)onsibility of which does not rest with tlie ofii- 
cers of the Potomac Army, but with tlie political satraps at Wash- 
ington, who, afraid to disobey theii- masters, took up the cry, "On 
to Richmond," regardless of the cost, and contrary to the advice 
of our ;ilt!i>st commanders in the field. 

xVnother winter of inactivity was ];efore us, and the country was 
filled with gloom}' forebodings for tlie future. Two years of blood 
and treasure had been spent, and as yet, nothing accomplished. 
Those who remained at home, and knew nothing of tlic perils of 
the field of battle, were the first to complain, and raise their voice 
against the measures taken by the Government. Yolunteering 
had nearly ceased, and it became necessary to order a draft, in or- 
der to fill up our decimated rank-, although large bounties were 



39 

offered for volunteers, ly loth the general Government and States. 
The draft went on, but not without opposition. New York, noted 
for its riots, first con.menced a "fire in the rear.'- Instead of lend- 
ing; her aid in this hour of peril, after all her former exei tions, she 
seemed disposed to place every obstacle in the way of the aulhori- 
ties. Order, however, was soon restored, and the work went on 
without further violence. 

The winter passed away, and at the commencement of spring, 
our army was again ready for the arduous duties required of it. 
Another change of commanders had taken place. Burnside gave 
way to fighting Joe Hooker. On his assuming command, we 
were again put in motion — "onward to Richmond." The Rappa- 
hannock was crossed, and preparations made for another deadly 
strife. The battle of Chancellorsville was fought, and proved an- 
other disaster to our arms ; and again the cry went forth against 
our army and its Commander. The rebels, now flushed with victory, 
resolved to invade the loyal States, and their army took up its line 
of march for Maryland and Pennsylvania. Chambersburg was in- 
vaded, contributions levied on the inhabitants, and the city burned. 
Finally, the two great armies of Lee and Meade met on the field of 
Gettysburg. After three days of the most terrible fighting, in this 
or any other country, victory crowned our arms ; and at the same 
time the news flashed across the wires that Vicksburg, the rebel 
stronghold of the Mississippi, had surrendered to the invincible 
army of Grant. The god of battle seemed at last to favor our 
cause, after so many disasters, and now, instead of gloom, a uni- 
versal cry of joy and thanksgiving resounded throughout the 
land. 

About this time. General Grant was appointed Commander-in 
Chief of the Armies of the United States, with headquarters in the 
field, with the Army of the Potomac, Gen. Meade still retaining 
his position ; and after another season of inactivity, we again com- 
menced our forward march to the rebel States. Sherman had been 
appointed to the command of the Western Armies, instructed to 
attack the opposing forces there, and everything possible to insure 



40 

success was done. The battle of the Wilderness, Spottsylvanlaj 
Cold Harbor, and other affairs of a less magnitude, were fought in 
quick succession, and the rebels driven into their Capitol. The 
army was then transferred to the south side of the James Eiver 
and the cities of Petersburg and Richmond invested, preparatory 
to a long siege. 

It will be remembered, by those familiar with the history of the 
VVar, that after the termination of the Peninsular campaign, Gen. 
McClellan asked for authority to cross the James River with his 
Arm}, and operate against the rebel Capitol. For some reason the 
lequest was denied. Had he been allowed to do so, in all probabil- 
ity our war would have terminated earlier. 

We now liiid tlio army busy al work in throwing U[) earth-works 
and fortilications of all kinds. Occasional sorties were ma<ic by 
the enemy, but iliey were gcneially driven back without being 
able to accomplish anything. .Mines were also dug and sprung, 
but without any success. The army of the James was also opera- 
ting from the north side against Richmond, commanded by the 
hero of Dutch Gap, Geu. Benjamin F. Butler ; but, either from a 
want of military knowledge ur other raasons not to be explained, 
he did but little else thaii build observatories. I do not wish it to 
be understood that 1 cast ;my rellections on the army of the James, 
for 1 am aware that they performed the duty required of them 
faithfully, and the bravery displayed by tliem, and their losses in 
killed and wounded, at Drurys Bluff and Fort Darling, testify more 
eloquently than words can express, how nobly they did their duty. 

The next step was the work of besieging ; guns of the heaviest 
calH»re were brought lo the fronl and placed in j)osition. The 
rankci of the army were coiistantiy kept full, l>y the acqusition of 
new troops, ready to repel any aggressive jnovement the enemy 
might make. 

It now became evident tiiat the days of the rebellion were num- 
bered. With Lee's army locked up in Richmond, and Sherman and 
Thomas operating in the West, victory was sure. It was only a 
question of time. Atlanta, Ga., after a siege of over ninety days, 



41 

fell into our hands, and Sliennan's Army, leaving tlieir base of sup- 
plies, commenced their marih tlirough the heart oi' the enrmy's 
country to the Sea, devastating and destroying the country as they 
went through. 

In the spring of 1865, all being in readiness for the final strug- 
gle, the army wa« put in motion, and tlie rebel lines of supplies at- 
tacked. The Weldon Railroad was destioyed by the forces under 
Generals Warren and Hancock, and the enemy, after a severe bat- 
tle, were driven from their position. Lee, perceiving his commu- 
nications cut, resolved to a1>andon Richmond and Petei'sbnrg. He 
made a despeiate eiloit to escape Sontli with his connnand. The 
President of the Confederacy l!ed : the archives were removed, and 
a.s the troop evacuated tlie city of Tvichniond it was tiied. The 
retreating foe were holly pursiicd, and after a, series of liattles, de- 
feated with heavy h)ss. An armistiic was now asked for and 
granted ; terms of surrender were drawn up, and on tlie 9th day of 
Aprif, iSt);"). the eouiiiiauder of the Army of Northern A'irginiasur- 
rendere<l to (Jenei-al '.ii-ant, at Appomattox Court House. 

Thus, after four years of hardships and struggles, without a pai'- 
allel in the history of the world ; the Army of the Potomac hfid ac- 
complished the great woi'k forwliich it was organized. The sur- 
render of Lee was soon followed oy that of Jolniston to Sherman, 
and the remaining forces of the South soon laid down their arms. 

The next matter of impoi-tance before the country, was the re- 
organization of the Southern States. Peace had been declared, and 
the Soutli divided into military di.-tricts, commanded by able Gen- 
erals. Although the (U)untry had passed through such a fiery or- 
deal, it was forced lo undergo another great trial. On the 14th 
day of A}u-il, 1S()5, Abraham ijincoln, President of the L'nited 
States, was assassinated at Fold's Theatre, Vv'ashingtoa, by John 
Wilkesj Booth. The whole country was thrown into mourning by 
this sad calamity, and even tlie South acknowle^lged that they had 
lost their best friend. The people oi the country had learned to 
look upon him with conSdence and respect, for he had shown him- 
self, during his administration, equal to the great work with which 



42 

he had to contend. And now, that the war was over, and the Un- 
ion which he loved so well restored, it was, indeed, a sad blow to 
see him taken away by the hand of an assassin. 

The work of reorganization went on ; laws were enacted by Con- 
gress for the spseiy admission of the Southern States into the Un- 
ion, provided they would comply with the laws, among which was 
the ratification of several amendments to the Constitution. Some, 
of the S'ates were speedily admitted, and the others soon followed : 
and, although much trouble and dissatisfaction still exists in the 
Soath, caused princip:illy by mal-administration, the country may 
again be re-united. 

The great question of slavery has been forever settled by Ihe. 
em incip ition procjlam itiou of Lincoln, and the liberated slave^' 
granted the privilege of the ballot. The vast army of the United 
States having accomplished the task for wliich it was called 
out, was now disbanded ; and those who, for four long years, had 
sulfered exposure, fatigue, and danger in the field, returned to their 
ho 03 5, on33 mjre to follow their peaceable pursuits. The United 
States had, in the great conflict, shown to the world her strength 
and resources. Those who sought to aid in her destruction, now 
looked up3n our United Country with pride and admiration. Peace 
bein T once more established, let us look at the treatment received 
by those who periled their lives for the N itiou. True, we have 
Volunteer Elaspitals and Hjm3s for disabled Sijldiers of the War. 
into which all may be admitted by making application, but what 
is to become of the hilpless families of those who avail themselves 
of this privilege ? They must be left to the cold charity of the 
world for support ; and at last the work-house and poor-house must 
be their habitations. How many poor disabled soldiers who are 
now striving to earn an honest livelihood for themselves and fam- 
ilies, by the only means left them, viz., peddling, <fec., are subject 
to insult and abuse by those who were the first to call on them for 
protection during the war. There goes a drunken, or dirty soldier 
is the remark made by tho>e, who instead of insulting, should re- 
spect and honor them. Why not endeavor to raise the standard 



43 



of a soldier, and show him that his profession is not a disgrace, 
but an honor. How often do we hear the insinuation, that laziness 
or drunkenness is the cause of so many entering the army ! Those 
who think the life of a soldier a lazy one, are mistaken. Let them 
visit some of our military posts, and they will find the soldier oc- 
cupied from morning to night with the various duties demanded 
of him. 

Make the soldier believe that his position is an honorable one, 
and you will soon see less debauchery among them, and find them 
as capable of self respect as those of any other calling in life. 

In conclusion I would beg leave to state that, from the results of 
my wounds, I am no longer able to follow my trade, and I have 
adopted this method of obtaining a living for myself and family. 

I append herewith, statistics of the number of prisoners and 
deaths in Andersonville Prison, from February 1864, to March 
1865, according to rebel statements. 

Statistics of tha number of Prisoners and deaths at Anderson- 
ville Prison, Georgia, from February 1354, to March, 1865. 



Months. 


No. of 
Prisoners. 


No. in 
Hospital. 


Av. No. of 
D'ths Daily 


1864 


February 


1,600 


33 






March 


4,603 


909 


9 




April 


7,875 


870 


19 




May 


13,486 


1,190 


23 




June 


22,35-2 


1,635 


40 




July 


28,689 


2,156 


56 




August 


32,193 


3,709 


99 




September 


17,733 


3,026 


89 




October 


5,885 


2,245 


51 




November 


2,024 


242 


16 




December 


2,218 


431 


5 


1865 


Jmiary 


4,931 


595 


6 




February 


5,194 


365 


5 




March 


4,800 


140 


3 



Th3 grexte^t nimbsr of deaths on aiy single d ly, wis on the 
23d of Au^iist, 1S31, and was 127, or about onedjith ever}^ elev- 
en minutes. 



44 

VERSES COMPOSED ON ANDERSON VILLE PRISON. 



Come friends and fellow soldiers, 

Come listen to my song, 
About the rebel prison, 

And remaining there so long ; 
Our wretched state, and hardships great, 

No one can understand. 
But those who have endured this fate 

In Dixie's sunny land. 

When captured by their chivalry, 

And stripped unto the skin. 
They failed to give us back again 

The value of a piu ; 
Excepi some filthy rags of grease 

Discarded by their band, 
And thus commenced our prison-li'ii 

In Dixie's sunny land. 

A host of guards surrounded us. 

Each one with loaded gun, 
We were .stationed in an open field 

Exposed to ruin and sun. 
No tent or tree to shelter us, 

We lay upon the sand. 
And side by side, great numbers died 

In Dixie's sunny laud. 

What was our daily bill of fare 

In that secesh saloju ? 
No sugar, tea, nor coffee there, 

At morning, night or noon ; 
But a pint of meal, ground cob and all 

Was served to evt-ry man. 
For the want of fire, we ate it raw, 

In Dixie's sunny laud. 

Our temper, it was oltca tried 
By mauy a threat and bribe, 

To desert our glorious Union 
And join the rebel tribe ; 

But fain were we to leave the place, 
We let them uadeistaud. 



45 

Wt'd sooner die than thus disgrace 
Our flag, in Dixie's land. 

How sad those weary moments seemed, 

A.S weeks and months rolled by, 
And yot no tidings came to us 

From loved ones far away, 
While here we lay to starve and die 

Upon the burning sand, 
Away from friends and home so dear, 

In Dixie's sunny land. 

When landed at Annapolis, 

A wretched looking band, 
We joyed to be alive, and free 

From Dixie's sunny land. 
Having gained our wasted strength 

All dressed in Union blue, 
We'll pay theai back our vengeance soon, 

Or die their bi'-ter foe. 



ERRATA. 

ige 6 for McDowell's, reads McDonaldV 
■' 7 " war " west. 

" II " Rapidan, " Rapids. 

14 "' Cold Harbor, " Cold Springti- 
'' 26 " Burgeon '* Sergeant, 



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